Josey’s Time in Government Schools

Ok, I know. I keep promising you folks a video discussing the CFR. I really AM working on it. I’m just finding it more time consuming organizing all my research than I originally planned. But in the meantime…

I was in a discussion on Facebook a couple of nights ago regarding Common Core. If you are not familiar with this, I highly suggest you GET familiar with it. Particularly if you have children, are going to have children, or will ever know any children who will be subjected to it. I have gathered an absolute TON of information about Common Core on my WordPress site. I’ll provide the link to that page at the bottom of the video.

Now this video is not going to be specifically about Common Core, because in order for me to do a proper video, I’d first have to discuss “No Child Left Behind” under Bush, then go back to The Department of Education under Carter, then back to the “Elementary and Secondary Education Act” under LBJ., the New Deal under FDR, and the initiation of Progressivism in this country regarding education under Woodrow Wilson. Hell, before you know it, this video would be 10 or 12 hours long. But, I plan on doing videos in the future discussing each one of those things, hopefully in a logical order, but I thought it might be interesting as a primer, to do a video talking about my personal experience with public education, or as it is more properly called, government indoctrination.

That’s right folks. You heard correctly. I too, am a victim of government schooling…well, sorta.

I was born in 1965 and was in pre-school by 1969. What a dumb ass term. “Pre-school.” Some would say, that while we were lower middle class, I was somewhat fortunate in that at the time (and this didn’t last long), I had a stay at home mom. Of course, my dad was working a full time job, and at least 2 part time jobs in the late 60s-early 70s. By the time the mid-70s rolled around and up until Reagan took office, the full time job was gone and the old man was working 3 part time jobs, and my mom was working full time. But this isn’t a video about the economy or the reasons women were forced back to work under the guise of “Women’s Lib”. Just felt a little background was in order to make my first point.

I will say one more thing about those early years though, and I am only speculating on my conclusion. As I said, I was born in 1965, my little brother was born in 67 and my baby sis was born in 68. By the time 1970 came around and I was shipped off to kindergarten, I think my mom said “fuck this shit! I’m going back to work.” LOL. Nah, that really was because of necessity. My mom went back to work because her and my pop had children to feed. I personally think my mom would have been a better mom and we would have been better kids if she had the option of staying home. But back to the topic of discussion here.

I was born curious, inquisitive, imaginative, and some would say, with a “natural” intelligence. And yes, MANY would argue I was born with a “natural” stupidity. I’m not going to pretend like I remember a lot about my very early years, but I do know, that by the time I went to pre-school, I was already reading. Mostly billboards, comic strips, cereal boxes, and such. But my mother has told me, I was already attempting to read the front page of the now extinct, Washington Star newspaper. I could write my name, first and last, I knew my phone number and address, and could spell my street name. I wouldn’t say I was a literate genius or anything, but I was well ahead of the other kids in pre-school. And I could start babbling about all those morons who still had a hard time not shitting themselves, but that’s not the point. I’m sure they were right where they were supposed to be at that age, and like I said, I was just really curious, and had a real desire to learn. I was, wait for it…a unique “individual” <note emphasis!>

That thirst for learning lasted pretty much through most of my elementary school days. Up until about 4th grade. Oh, I gotta throw this in here. My first crush was on my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Wells. (Back then we all still called single ladies “Mrs.”). She was HAWT! Mid 20s from California, blond blue-eyed angel, drove a 60’s Corvette…she was straight out of a Beach Boys song. Lucky for me, the summer between 3rd and 4th grade, she got switched from being a 3rd grade teacher to being a 4th grade teacher, and I was in her class for two wonderful years!

And the reason I am bringing up Mrs. Wells, is not some reminiscent childhood fantasy, (albeit a nice fantasy) but because, it was directly because of her that any interest in “school” remained for me by the time I hit 4th grade. I was done with that shit. I was just completely, and utterly bored by then. I wasn’t “learning” anything. I was “sentenced” to several hours a day, being stuck inside a cinder blocked room with fluorescent lights, anxiously awaiting the ring of the last bell. I was miserable. Some of this was probably my parents’ fault. Those evil bastards had the nerve to squirrel away enough money to get me (the household) our first set of “WorldBook” encyclopedias…or maybe it was “Encyclopedia Britannica”, when I was around 7. When mom said it was nap time (remember that shit?) my ass was reading. Not napping.

And Mrs. Wells, was young enough to be “hip” but old enough to notice shit like a student drifting off and becoming bored was NOT a “mental problem”. And hey folks, this is serious. Back in those days, even though “progressivism” was beginning to dominate the school system, it was NOTHING like now. If I were a 4th grader today, and I acted the exact same way I did then today!, …

Let me tell you all something. My ass would be sent down to an office where a “social worker” would have a brief chat with me, without parental knowledge or consent, then send me across the hall to a “school psychologist’s” office, again without parental knowledge or consent, where that joker would label me ADHD or some other god damn bunch of horse shit. THEN, my parents would be called in for a conference, where they (my parents) would be told I need further “counseling” and be prescribed some poison shit to keep me focused. And you can bet your last god damn dollar, all these assholes that CLAIM I have some fucking right to a “public education”, would be the exact same dickheads that would REFUSE that education, if my parents denied their “request” to have me medicated.

BULL SHIT! Folks. These god damn psychotropic drugs, under tested and over-prescribed, are designed to do one god damn thing. Keep you (and/or your kids) just smart enough to function, but just dumb enough to not give a shit. They are nothing but a means to keep you in comfortable conformity. Period.

But anyway, (going into the big pharma scam would be another very lengthy topic), back to Mrs. Wells and 4th grade. She saw that I truly was just bored. Not stupid. Way ahead of the class. I wasn’t causing trouble, other than constantly questioning everything. I was, and I’ll admit this, a distraction.  Other kids, who, in all fairness, were “normal”, would see me close my book, or put my head on my desk, or just stare out the window, and figured, “well shit, if he don’t have to learn this shit, why do I?”

You guys remember when mom would cut up the brown grocery bags and make book covers for us? Mrs. Wells was a GENIUS! She called my parents in for a private teacher/parent discussion, where *I* was invited to participate, and she offered a couple of brilliant suggestions.

One, she would let me have a desk in the back corner. Not outside the class of my peers, where it would make me look “special” but where I’d be less conspicuous.

Two, make up those paper bag book covers, and let me bring in some books of MY choosing to read, when I found myself getting ahead and bored. If the other kids don’t notice me not participating in what they are doing, they really don’t think to complain.

Her third suggestion was, if there was ever ANY indication that I was falling behind in the actual curriculum, my parents would be called back in, and we would ALL make adjustments accordingly. See, when I think about Mrs. Wells today, it is much more than a reminiscing over a childhood crush. There are far too few teachers like her in our schools today folks. Of course, that is by design.

In addition to her efforts to keep me focused in her class, for that moment, she had foresight. She was also part of some experimental program thing for kids entering 5th and 6th grades, which are still “elementary” school grades here in Virginia.  Ya know, you go to one classroom, have one teacher, learn a bunch of different “elementary” shit, and go home. Repeat tomorrow. And this (what I’m about to discuss) is probably pretty common nowadays, but it was fairly new in my day… I think now they call it “Gifted Students Program” or something similar. But anyway, this type of thing was really just an experiment…at least it was in Fairfax County Va. In the mid-1970s.

So, 5th and 6th grade, I would report to a main classroom, with my main teacher. Most of my subjects would take place there. But during the day at some point, I would get up, change classrooms, and have another teacher for math. And another point in the day, I would go to another classroom and have another teacher for science. It was very similar to what most of us experience when we go into middle or Jr. High School. And this probably doesn’t seem like that much of a big deal to many of you now, but I can tell you, it was miraculous for ME at the time.  This simple little adjustment kept me engaged. It helped to quench my thirst with water, rather than hand me a bucket of salt. So, other than dealing with the bullies who picked on me in the bathroom for being the “smart kid”, it got me through those two brief last years of elementary school.

Now I want you all to think about this for a second. I mean, god damn, by the time I was 10 years old, BEFORE the Dept. of Ed completely took over, BEFORE “No Child Left Behind” and BEFORE Common Core, I already KNEW the one size fits all approach to education was complete HORSE SHIT! I was just lucky as all fuck that I had a wonderful teacher, (Mrs. Wells) and extremely fortunate to get an alternative, even though the alternative was “experimental” at that point. Do you all think the vast majority of kids in government schools today would consider themselves “lucky” or “fortunate”?

Alright, this brings me to Jr. High School, which in many paces is called “Middle School”. 7th grade.  Ah shit, here we go again. Yeah, now we all get to switch classrooms and teachers every 45 minutes or so, but the curriculum is the same…for EVERYONE. You will still hear one yo yo at the front of the class telling all the little subjects the pre-planned doctrine that everyone must learn, at the same pace, with no questions asked. See, that one thing, from a very early age, just bugged the SHIT outta me. This teacher has no god damn time for my questions. Even worse nowadays, if one DARES to have a question, he is a non-conformist and we better get that little ingrate on some fucking meds. Folks, this was the beginning of the end of my government schooling. 2 months into 7th grade, I was DONE.

Now, I’m going to have to clarify my declaration of being “done” a bit. It’s not like I really had much say so in the matter. [My] “ass was going to go to school and that was that!” Right? LOLZ. Yeah, keep on thinkin’ that shit Pop.

Nah, I started skipping classes to smoke cigarettes and weed, hung out in the wood shop, (where funny enough, our shop teacher would burn a doob with us), actively disrupt the classes I was in, etc., etc., etc. It isn’t so much my desire to learn had been squished like a bug. It was more that this system was all complete bull shit. I knew it. The teachers knew it. You think they gave a shit if I showed up for class? Hell, most of them didn’t even take attendance. They didn’t give a damn. And I could go on and on about my theories of WHY they didn’t give a shit. And most of you can guess some of the reasons, ya know like the god damn teachers unions they all belong to.  But hey, I don’t want to completely go off the rails here. I’d hate for some smart ass to start calling me a “conspiracy theorist who hates the working man, and despises teachers, and wants a nation of illiterate children, and blah blah blah”. That would break my fucking heart to offend some “defender of the teachers of America” asshole. LOL

Well, anyway, by the time I was half way through 7th grade, my parents KNEW there was a SERIOUS problem afoot. And don’t forget, I had a little brother and baby sis, who were still pliable little conformists in the safe haven of elementary school and I was horribly influencing them.

And at the risk of once again getting a bit off topic, there really are a couple of things I need to note real quick.  By today’s standards of horrible inner city schools, it might not seem that bad, but at the time, in the mid-1970s, I was in a pretty bad school. There were still some bad black/white race relation problems. I had a “switchblade” placed in the small of my back a couple of times for my lunch money by anti-white, militant black kids. And I have no doubt, some of them experienced the same episodes from redneck crackers as well. Oddly enough, this hatred somewhat got resolved by the massive influx of boat people from Cambodia and Vietnam. I distinctly remember all the black and white kids banding together to fight off all the “chinks” moving into our school. And yeah, there were some pretty serious, violent episodes.

But right around midway through 7th grade, my parents got an opportunity to move us out of Falls Church (which was, and still is, a pretty “citified” city within Fairfax County) out to Dale City, which is in more rural Prince William County. And again, I’m really trying hard to stay on topic in regards to my government schooling, but it is difficult to get you to understand the big picture, without giving some background scenery in the process. When I talk of Dale City Virginia, you have got to realize, *my* Dale City compared to Dale City today would be similar to comparing Earth to Venus. Yeah, there are a couple of things you can see that look the same, but straight up…two completely different worlds. But comparing the Dale City of then to the Falls Church of then, is equally similar to trying to compare two completely different worlds. Dale City today, is not all that different from Falls Church today. So try to keep that in mind as I discuss this, and bear with me if it seems I’m going astray.

Growing up in Dale City, back in the 1970s and early 1980s, really was a lot like being Tom Sawyer. I could walk out my back door, and within 100 feet, be in pretty thick woods, walk next to a 5 foot long black snake or a 2 foot long Copperhead, and dip my pole into a pond or a creek to do some fishin’. Now, that same spot houses a K-Mart, McDonalds, blah blah blah, strip mall bull shit. But just understand, when I am talking about Dale City, I am talking about that place when I was a part of it. And although it is completely different now, in regards to this topic, (education) I doubt much of anything has changed.

So here I am, midway through 7th grade, in a new school, in a completely new environment, looking around. Wow, this is kinda neat. Instead of going to school for around 9 straight months of the year, we’re on this crazy color coded calendar thingy.  School is all fucking year long. 12 god damn months of the year! Well, not exactly, and this ONE thing has changed since then. Depending on what subdivision you lived in, within Dale City, you were on a “color code”. You were either red, blue, green, or yellow (or orange). I don’t remember if it was yellow or orange, but it was one or the other. Four colors and depending on which subdivision you lived in, you were one of those four. I was red. So, I had the entire month of August and the entire month of December off with a couple of weeks scattered throughout the year off. Arguably, red was the best color to have. Christmas and baseball.

They have since done away with this system, and gone to the traditional school year system. But at the time, there really was good reason to try this out.

Dale City was a “planned community” that was extremely popular back in the late 60s and throughout most of the 70s. And the vast majority of people who flocked towards these communities were what we may call “yuppies” now…except the yuppies of the time were starting families along with their careers.  A shit ton of young military and entry level government employee families flooded Dale City. And that too was for good reason. Quantico Marine base is 10 minutes away and Fort Belvoir Army Base is about 20 minutes away. Interstate 95 was within spitting distance of my house, which would get you to DC, via the beltway.  And being such a young upcoming community, military and government friendly, property was pretty cheap compared to the already established counties of Fairfax and Arlington.  But also, getting back to my point, the color code system was really not a bad idea for the time. Lots and lots of kids. Man the kids outnumbered the adults by probably 4 or 5 to 1, and the adults that actually WORKED within Dale City was miniscule. We had 2 fire departments that spanned several square miles, MOST of which were heavily wooded areas and BOTH fire departments were 100 % VOLUNTARY. My dad was a volunteer fireman. We had 2 swimming pools, and only one of them was an outdoor pool, and it was a fraction of the size of an Olympic pool. I was around 16 when the first McDonald’s was built. We had a Pizza hut and a bowling alley.

So, I’m in 7th grade, and although a different group of kids, with different experiences than I have had up to this point, and a different calendar year, it is all the same shit. Some joker up at the front of the class telling me a whole bunch of shit I have already heard, (and a lot of it I’ve already debunked by this point), and sending all us “questioners” down to the “experts” in dealing with “troubled youth”.

I never made it through the last half of 7th grade, in my 2nd school, in a completely different county, without some other “expert” getting involved. This time, it was from my parents’ flavor of religious leader.  This preacher fella, convinced my parents that I just didn’t have the “right” structure. What I was lacking was the “proper educational motivation”.

Enter my foray with “private education”. This will be real fucking quick folks. Within 2 months, these nut jobs expelled me.  Sure, go ahead and assume I was the nutty anarchist, throwing firebombs into stained glass windows, hitting old ladies peacefully paying homage to Jesus. Hell, I wish I was such a revolutionary back then. Nope. My high crimes consisted of, asking questions. Challenging their authority by making them show evidence of their claims. Yeah, I was a real wild thinker. Too god damn dangerous. I’m not kidding. Within 2 months, I had some of the other kids, mostly stupid gullible girls, daring to ask questions. And many of you might not believe this, but at the time, I was what I considered a “Christian”. All I was doing, was the exact same thing I have always done, questioning what I was being told.

“God” forbid someone who has been taught to honor the TRUTH, actually wanting to seek the fucking TRUTH! Yeah, that was way too fucking scary for these dickheads. So, my parents were quite politely asked by these men of truth and honor (nope, not one single woman who dutifully followed these men to church every Sunday was involved) to make suitable arrangements for my lost soul.

Ok guys and gals, I’m still just a 7th grader, have been in 2 different counties, 3 different schools, 2 public and 1 private, the only alternative to public back then and guess what….I’m still smarter than the average bear, but no cave to call home.

Now here, I must interject, my home life by this point was no fucking pic-a-nic. Nope, I didn’t have the pic-a-nic basket either Yogi.  My parents, the “Park Ranger” even though they had the best intentions, were still the Park Ranger denying me the pic-a-nic basket. They simply could not understand why I would not just be like all the other bears in the forest, happily and stupidly living off the ants all around me. “Why in the fuck does this kid need a god damn pic-a-nic basket?”

Oh my goodness people. Living at home, while MUCH more exciting, and sometimes more terrifying, was just as disappointing as this FREE education I was being “offered”…I mean, “given”…I mean, forced to endure.

Ok, on to 8th grade. It really does move much quicker from this point folks. Bear (proper spelling? LOL) with me.

So 8th grade, I got another very lucky break. My parents found out about this alternative school that was semi-public. Meaning, they were funded partially by federal funds, which were extremely small, partially by surplus funds from the Commonwealth of Virginia, which is always hit or miss, usually non-existent, partially funded through local taxes, and partially funded by private interests, ( a couple of kids had some well to do parents). But that was the “classification” of this school. Semi-public. And once again, I really have to point out folks, unless you were wealthy back then, the “choices” were public school or…um, yeah, “choice”.

Alright, this school was called “Different Strokes”, and it really was just a coincidence that a national television show by the same name popped up around the same time. All the cool kids, who went to the “normal” school for the “normal” kids used to make comments among each other as to who I was…Willis or Arnold. Some of them opined I was a “faggot” in drag and I was Kimberly. Nothing new to me. I figured out a long time before this, if you were an individual, you were the “faggot”. Suffice it to say, I was NOT a kool kid.I was a
faggot”. Didn’t matter if one was a homosexual or not. Anyone who didn’t fit in was a “faggot”.

Alright, a little background on the staff of “Strokes”. Man, these were my kinda people. Not just the students, but the ENTIRE school. We were on a first name basis with everyone from the kid next to me, to our teachers, all the way up to the head mofo in charge. Total of about 30 people. Not a single one of our “authority figures” was older than 30. My history teacher played bass in a punk band, had brain cancer, and still came back to us before he was 30. Our “principle”, ( I don’t think that was her title),  we all called “Bert”, short for Roberta and was in an open relationship with a part time “mentor” of ours, who played guitar, and came in for a couple hours each week to play for us. My English teacher was a beautiful, buxom redhead named Amy.

So far, listening to this, or reading this one might get the impression this was a commie hangout…socialist indoctrination camp…Satan worshipping atheistic cult…blah blah blah. I’ll be honest. There was a couple of times since this experience, I might have agreed. Sure sounds like a hippie commune!

There is no doubt that these “teachers”, which in all honesty, were mentors, actual EDUCATORS, had left leaning tendencies. But I am going to say, there was only one other student (besides myself) that I even suspect MIGHT have read Marx, much less understood him, and I do not ever recall any of these hippie teachers bringing up Marx. LOL Yeah, they were some cool hippie mofos, and definitely swung to the left of the political pendulum, but these people truly GOT freedom. They never told us what we should think or do. They inspired us to want to think, and to research, and to look at all angles of everything, and always respected our conclusions. I really could go on and on giving specific examples, but I really want you to understand, these people inspired me, maybe more than anybody COULD have at that time in my life, to be an independent, rational THINKER, rather than a go along to get along member of a sheep herd. They truly did inspire me.

Now at some point, and this does get a little confusing, even to me, we had to integrate back into “regular school”. The tit ran dry. The funds disappeared. The school was being axed. Shit. “We really gotta go back into that shit? Guess now we have to start going to pep rallies, and fucking cheerleaders, and pretending we like football jocks, and shit”.

Ok, maybe I am dramatizing a bit. But seriously, we knew damn well we weren’t going to fit in. It’s not like the people that went to “regular school” didn’t know us. I mean, god damn. I lived in a cul-de-sac with 30 townhouses. EVERYBODY in my “hood” knew me and where I went to school.  Hahahaha

But there I was. Being “forced” back into the same system, who openly for years told me I wasn’t a part of. And I happily agreed, for years, they were right. I was not, nor was I ever going to be, a mindless drone, a simple obedient sheep. I was never going to accept what ANYBODY told me to be the truth.


I was 16 and my girlfriend went to that school and even though I saw her every single day, cuz she lived a few doors down, I might could see her some more at school. Hahahaha. Yeah, I caved.

Now, I had to take all these crazy bull shit tests man, so THEY could determine what grade I was in. We didn’t really have “grades” at Strokes. There were no sophomores or juniors or any of that kind of classification. A 14 year old in the same class as an 18 year old was just normal. None of that putting people into “boxes” thing was relevant to us.

So trying to figure out what grade I was in didn’t make much sense to me. Why can’t you just offer me some classes that I know you already provide, and let me choose? If there is some test I have to take at the end to meet some state or federal requirements to determine my graduation status, I’ll comply.

Nah, you gotta take these tests so WE know where you fit in.

Um, I just told you where I fit in. I want to LEARN.

Yada yada yada. I took their god damn stupid irrelevant tests. Ok, folks, remember, when last in their system, I was “not complete” for 7th grade, “non-compliant” for 8th grade, and now I am 16…roughly 10th grade age, right? Nope! I am 11th grade “aptitude” and will be listed as “advanced/gifted” 11th grade student.  Well, la di da, whoopty fucking doo. Thanks guys.

Ok, damn it. I know this has dragged on longer than you are used to, and a bit longer than I intended, but this whole thing keeps going back to THEY think I was the problem, when in FACT, they think they understood me…as a statistic…as part of the collective…as a number…a subject. THEY never once considered me as an INDIVIDUAL.

So, according to these jokers with their scientific testing, I am an 11th grader. BUT I have to take this 10th grade “History/Government course to remain “current’ with the standards.

Ok fuck it. I’m in.

One of my better decisions. I don’t remember all of my teachers’ names over the years, but a few really do stand out. Mr. Greer. My 10th grade government teacher while I was classified as an 11th grader…LOL, stands out as one of the “good guys”.

As most of you are aware by now, whether you agree with me or not, politics is one thing I am not an idiot about. I get it. I get it to the point it makes me want to vomit. It has always gripped me. I’m obsessed not only with the people who crave to rule us, but also with the people who demand to be ruled. It just fascinates the shit out of me. It has since the days of Nixon.

So, anyway, Mr. Greer. This guy was an honest freewheeling self-proclaimed Democrat. He made no bones about it. But when I say he was an “honest” Democrat, I mean that. He was a true blue JFK Democrat, who like JFK, despised “liberalism” and the Progressive N.W.O. agenda. He openly, repeatedly said things like “LBJ was the only mother fucker to leave the White House wealthier than when he entered.” And, “LBJ killed JFK”.

Now, I’m not going to get into a pissing match over this point, but I am only giving a very brief qualifier of a man that I consider a mentor in shaping the way I look at things. He often said he voted (D) because of his hatred of Nixon.

I loved his class. The rest of “school” could go to hell, and not only would I not have cared, I wouldn’t have even noticed.  I questioned damn near everything he presented. BUT, unlike almost all the “teachers” I had prior to him, he got off on that shit! Even the most idiotic question I posited, this man had a [secret] chuckle going on in his head. “This fucking pretentious little prick reminds me of WHY I became a god damn teacher”

At some point, about halfway through that year…maybe around Christmas break, he asked me to stay after class. Now I’m thinking, “ah shit. Getting booted again.”

I mean, can I go home and say I’ve been kicked out of another school? Jesus, home life was not great, but at this point, my parents and I weren’t all that worried about school. All I had to do was finish, and I was ahead of schedule.

Worries in my head were all for naught. Mr. Greer, with all his “Democracy is freedom” bull shit, turned out to be a real deal, as opposed to a “New Deal” Democrat. He was an actual “liberal”. He told me, and although I am paraphrasing, he wasn’t one to shy from using profanity, and essentially this is what he told me,

“You are one intelligent mother fucker. You raise interesting questions that get me, the ‘teacher’ to act like the ‘student’. The problem is, I MUST teach according to a specified doctrine, and I am bound to get you to accept what I teach as the truth, even when I know what I am telling you is not the truth.

“I want to make you a deal. You do NOT attend my class for the rest of the year, and I will NOT mark you as absent.”

Well, I had to scratch my head, or pop a zit, or fart…who knows what dumb ass gesture I made at 16 to hide my confusion at this point? But as I started to ask, “What are you…”

He continued…

“Listen kid, you are light years ahead of your peers when it comes to ‘getting’ this shit. You are the kinda kid who might make an actual difference someday. But not today, and not in my class room.

“I MUST teach a certain spin on what ‘government’ is, and it is my job to get these kids to accept what I say as the truth. But for you, here is my offer.

“Don’t come back to class. Meet me in the teacher’s lounge each Monday morning, and I’ll have the week’s assignments for you. Show up on Friday’s, every week, keep your fucking mouth shut, take the god damn test I give, and hand in your fucking weekly assignments.

“If you can do that shit, I will make sure I am your teacher next year, for your senior government class, and offer the same deal. And also, I would LOVE to sit with you on OUR time to discuss politics with you.

For the rest of that year, I did just that. I also embraced his offer to talk politics with him. He must have really been annoyed with me when I think about it now. I’d go to the teacher’s lounge during his lunch break to shoot the shit with him about dumb ass shit. Hahahaha. What an annoying dork I must have been.

But here’s the kicker folks. I took it upon myself to use his suggestion to include all those fucking retarded ass classes they wanted me to sit through. I said fuck them all. I didn’t even ask permission. I said, straight up, “fuck it”. Its my god damn time. They get paid to be here. What the hell am I getting? So, I pretty much, hung out in the art lab, for a while each day, where all the under-appreciated, plain Jane pretty type girls were, the wood and plastic shop, where I could make a cool bowl or bong, and the cafeteria, where I could meet up with the jocks who didn’t want their mommies, coaches, and girlfriends to find out I was selling them weed. These dopes were all gathered around the cool table to talk about the big win coming up, and the clap ridden cheer-whores they were all banging…speaking of, I usually made a stop outside the ladies locker room to visit all those hot cunts, who wouldn’t give me the time of day if I didn’t have weed…and let them know their boyfriend was a faggot I saw sucking a cop off at Pizza Hut last night. Hahahaha. High school was a blast for me. Education? Never got that there. I’d leave school around noon each day and walk to the public library to read.

But I did, faithfully go in every single Monday, pick up my assignments for the week, go back to each class on Friday and take their dumb ass tests.

And now, for the much anticipated punchline. Two months before graduation. Keep in mind, at this point, those jokers, by their tests, have said I was an 11th grader, who needed to take 10th grade classes, and now I am a 12th grader, 2 months from getting their dip shit piece of paper, wearing a phaggoty ass robe and cardboard hat, that they want my hard working parents to pay shitloads of money for…
Is suddenly ineligible to graduate with *my* senior class…


“You have not met all the requirements needed to graduate”

“One or more of the following requirements has not been made by the ‘applicant’”. LOL. Applicant? I am not applying for shit. I never asked to be a part of this bull shit.

But anyway, here it is folks…

“10th grade level physical education”

These dick faced idiots wanted me to take a summer school PE class, and graduate with NEXT YEAR’s class. I told them to go fuck themselves, went down to Annandale High School about a week later, took the god damn GED, finished about 3 fucking hours ahead of schedule. About a month later got my god damn results, which I really didn’t give shit about, but did find it a little funny that I scored in the top 2% of all Virginians who took the GED that period.

Alright, that’s the story of my experience with government schooling. And most of you, right now, are probably asking, “What the hell is your point?” Well, there’s a couple of points I’m trying to make here. One is, I made it through their dumb ass system. I’ve got a piece of paper upstairs somewhere noting that I met all their idiotic requirements. Another point is, I damn sure didn’t do it on their terms, or the way most kids are forced to do it. The thing is, I never once gave a shit if I ever made it through their system or not. It really just didn’t matter to me. I might have regretted it later if I didn’t get through school, but I doubt it. Another interesting point is, I really did get a couple of lucky breaks along the way. Mrs. Wells, Different Strokes, and Mr. Greer are the most notable breaks I got. And the sad reality is, the overwhelming majority of kids in public schools, never get such breaks. Of course, many of these kids just float through, never buck the system, or question what they are being told, and wind up being good little citizens for the state. But far too many kids are just floated through the system, because god forbid we have a child left behind. Who gives a shit if the kid can read? We want him to feel good. Give him a pill, tell him he’s just like everyone else, and move him on up to the next grade. My experience was quite unique, and most kids are not as fortunate. However, there are many more alternatives available today then there was in my time, and parents have got to start researching these alternatives.

Well, anyway, this video ran a lot longer than I intended. I hope you weren’t completely bored with it, and I really hope you were able to get something out of it. That’s it for this one folks. See you soon.


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